


Autumn Leaves

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Soft sex, shirabu is afraid of love, shirabu is baby, they're idiot in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:07:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23213761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: And if he had to give to this special person his own button, then Semi Eita would take care of giving itback in a thousand pieces. Because everyone says it's the button closest to our heart, and becausehis had become only thousands of crystal tips.So Semi Eita will stretch all of these fractures in Shirabu Kenjirou's white palm, and he will tell himhow much he hated loving him.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou, Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 165





	Autumn Leaves

And if he had to give to this special person his own button, then Semi Eita would take care of giving it back in a thousand pieces. Because everyone says it's the button closest to our heart, and because his had become only thousands of crystal tips.

  
So Semi Eita will stretch all of these fractures in Shirabu Kenjirou's white palm, and he will tell him how much he hated loving him.

  
But it’s a lie. Since their first glance, since their first _hi there_ , since their first words _nice toss, kiddo,_ since their first provocations _I could have done better tho_ …

  
Everything between them had been a lie.

.

Semi Eita met Shirabu Kenjirou when he was seventeen, and when his heart was still healthy from the wounds of Love.

  
The first thing he notices is his blackened caramel look. His eyes are clear, but all his aura darkens them, with a cold, icy veil ; with his eyes, he puts an insurmountable wall between himself and the whole world.

  
While Tendou whispers the names of the first new years in a corner of his ear, Semi Eita only keeps one in mind.

  
Speaking his name rolls his tongue, and perhaps also his mind. Shirabu Kenjirou shares the same post as me. _He's a setter_. As _Shirabu Kenjirou_ 's name scrolls through his mind, like an incessant playlist, the word rival is intertwined with those caramel eyes.

  
So, because it is necessary, because it was so ; because he had no other solution than to hate him, for everything he was on the field – _a setter. like me._ -, Semi Eita's heart plunges into a hostility he had never really known before.

  
He doesn't like this _Shirabu Kenjirou._

.

He doesn't like this _Shirabu Kenjirou._

  
First, because the number _3_ in his _Shiratorizawa_ jersey forces him to hate him. It’s a silent hatred. He doesn't show it. When his gray eyes land on this S _hirabu Kenjirou_ , his resentment remains closed inside his own heart, and even against his own skin.

  
However, just because this hatred is silent doesn't mean it doesn't exist. The others suspect it - especially Tendou. It floats in the air weighing in changing rooms. It crushes them all a little, when the coach Igurusho Kaji lets his glance shine with interest at the sight of the passes - too precise, too adequate for Ushijima, of the passes which blend too inside these palms -, of the passes who find their momentum thanks to the fingers of this _Shirabu Kenjirou_.

Hatred is silent, but it shows. Semi Eita is a sweet young man : he always has reserved smiles to everyone ; his hands are used to be lost in the hair, with a few sweet words, with a few reassuring words ; some _it will be fine_ that let out his tender eyes.

  
For this _Shirabu Kenjirou_ , nothing remains - an impassiveness that does not enhance the features of his face. Semi Eita's features are definitely fine : it is not a lie to claim that Semi Eita is a handsome man. Semi Eita is beautiful, because the features of her face form an exquisite delicacy.

  
When his gray eyes meet chocolate eyes, this smoothness vanishes in a disconcerting indifference - as if, for them, for this caramel color, he did not have the strength to grant them any kindness.

.

He doesn't like this _Shirabu Kenjirou_.

  
At first he didn't like it because of the talent that resided in his fingers and his mind. Now he doesn't like him because he's an asshole.

  
He doesn't like this S _hirabu Kenjirou_ \- a little stronger this time. After a few months, the indifference that his face and his body approached gradually turns into hostility launched by dark looks and salty remarks.

  
He does not like this _Shirabu Kenjirou_ \- because he exists, and because he breathes with this casualness and disrespect towards the whole world, and especially towards his elders. _Damn_ , especially to Semi Eita.

  
This _Shirabu Kenjirou_ has righteousness throughout his body : the kid has a coldness in all the features of his face, and a bad temper inside all his eyes - and especially in all his words. His words cut like a knife. Not only by his tone which was only an icy indifference, but also by this Strange delicacy of the choice of words - he always chose the sharpest.

  
Semi Eita is talking to Tendou. His gray eyes betray a not feigned determination. He says he knows that Shirabu Kenjirou is going to start over hum. He tells him _you’ll see, I’m right_. Tendou tells him _no_ : he says that the _number 3_ is too anchored in the balance of the team to fade. Just like that - all of a sudden. Semi Eita shakes his head. Its black tips fly - a little bit. Some remain stuck on his wet forehead. They have just finished training and their body and all the particles of their skin are still boiling. He says, even if it burns from the inside - even if it makes it burn from the inside - : _I will_ _improve my service I will stay as a holder you will also see, I will have to improve in another post._

  
Tendou looks at him with his round eyes. Semi Eita thinks he's about to laugh - but the hysterical sound he knows well stays in his throat. He does not say anything.

  
But this is not the case with this fucking _Shirabu Kenjirou_. Passing by them, to go inside the locker room, too concerned for his voice to remain completely indifferent:

  
\- Yeah. You should.

  
He almost whispers. He doesn't even watch Semi Eita. Yet he can - perhaps because he has seen it too much - see the darkness inside his light pupils.

Tendou bursts out laughing.

He doesn't like this _Shirabu Kenjirou_.

Semi Eita doesn't like this S _hirabu Kenjirou_ and apparently Shirabu Kenjirou doesn't like this _Semi Eita._

.

This hatred grows in their looks, since it is shared. The locker rooms and fields become the places where their words try to murder the other. The team sighs a little, the team describes their behavior as _immature kids get yourself back together jesus,_ but they see - even the innocent Goshiki - that their hatred is too far away to be caught by any of their sermonate.

  
Semi Eita always wins the locker room war. These aftershocks are bloody - passive brutality that the whole team didn't know he could have. Shirabu Kenjirou had the power to fade all the tenderness that Semi Eita's heart could hold.

  
Semi Eita likes to see this _Shirabu Kenjirou_ pinching his cheeks when one of his strokes was too fatal for him to respond. Semi Eita likes to see the lips of this _Shirabu Kenjirou_ tremble under a powerful hate anger that his little body is struggling to contain. Semi Eita likes to see this _Shirabu Kenjirou_ 's caramel eyes kill him - because it was the only weapon he has left. The others, they were all destroyed by the venom which slides on the mouth of this _Semi Eita._

  
Shirabu Kenjirou always wins the fields war. As this _Semi Eita_ said, he became the starter setter of the team. His body was grounded in Ushijima’s talent: his frail hands passed all the balls inside the Ace’s palms with disconcerting resistance. His fingers never trembled.

  
Shirabu Kenjirou likes to see this _Semi Eita_ tighten the points when he doesn't hear – _no more_ \- his first name when announcing the starters for the following matches. Shirabu Kenjirou likes to see this _Semi Eita_ train – too much ; many times ; madly - about services that don't work - because they're too strong or because they are too weak or because his fists are trembling.

  
Semi Eita doesn't like this _Shirabu Kenjirou_.

  
So much the better.

  
Shirabu Kenjirou doesn't like this _Semi Eita._

.

The team suffocates because of all this hatred and even Tendou's jokes are not enough to purify the air of the locker rooms and grounds and bedrooms and the canteen and all the places in the world that contained Semi Eita and Shirabu Kenjirou in the same room.

So until the two idiots manage to close it despite the presence of one and the other, they are responsible for tidying up and cleaning the gymnasium. Both. In one room. Without anyone around - without any hand to be able to intervene if their words become blows.

The two idiots protested. The coach intervened: he said with folded arms that _if you refuse this arrangement you will wax the bench until the end of your schooling_. So Semi Eita puts away the balls hanging around the gym and Shirabu Kenjirou passes the mop - they don't forget to throw thousands of dark glances at each other, to remind the other that even if the words don't come out, they are thought very hard in the back of their respective minds.

Words are thought - words are only thought. They stay at the bottom of their throats.

But that doesn't prevent the fact that Semi Eita doesn't like this _Shirabu Kenjirou_ and that Shirabu Kenjirou doesn't like this _Semi Eita._

.

After some time, they are too tired to be able to throw dark looks.

They are cleaning as quickly as possible. In a silent agreement, in an arrangement that they did not say to each other - because they hate themselves too much to allow themselves to speak if it is not insulting - they hurry up. Their muscles are exhausted and their body is as heavy as a stone. Everything was said at a glance. Their eyes did not shine with a spark of aversion: because, perhaps, they had already glanced enough for the other to understand how much he wanted to hit his head against a wall. They had become too tired to show that they hated each other.

  
Hating is quite exhausting for the heart. Showing hatred is even more tiring for the body.

  
Semi Eita doesn't like this _Shirabu Kenjirou_ and Shirabu Kenjirou doesn't like this _Semi Eita_. But they've shown it enough, in the past few months - so maybe even if this hatred still exists, the more the minutes pass, _like this one that has just run away,_ their exasperation for the other is too thin to shine.

.

There is something odd about this _Shirabu Kenjirou_ that Semi Eita cannot understand. Surely it is that this _Shirabu Kenjirou_ will always succeed in surprising him - perhaps because he never expected anything from him, so a simple surprise could often and always be considered as extraordinary.

This _Shirabu Kenjirou_ listens to his very loud music in his ears - and that’s surprising, because he seems too calm to handle such a loud sound. He has his earphones in his ears and his phone in his pocket. He puts away the hanging balloons. Sometimes he moves his head according to rhythm and his bangs slide on his light lashes.

He doesn’t pay attention to Semi Eita but it’s an ordinary thing.

This _Shirabu_ _Kenjirou_ is listening to _make you feel pretty_ by _lovelytheband_ and it may be because of his amazement, who knows, but Semi Eita can't help shouting _hey Shirabu_ to say:

  
\- I love this band.

This _Shirabu Kenjirou_ has only removed one of his headphones - Semi Eita does not deserve the sacrifice of letting one of the verses pass or the chorus.

  
\- Thanks for pointing out to me how bad this band was, Semi.

  
He puts his earpiece back in his ear and turns his back to go and get the key to the gym on the bench. Semi Eita can see him take his phone out of his purple jacket and Semi Eita can hear him change the song.

  
_What a brat._

.

This _Shirabu Kenjirou_ is definitely weird - the sort of being an outright contradiction. The next day, he let his music fill all the silence of the large gymnasium. Semi Eita has no time to give him a questioning look as Shirabu Kenjirou says:

  
\- I forgot my headphones and the silence is too embarrassing for me to let it exist.

Obviously.

After a few scrolling sounds, from _HUNNY_ and _Coin_ and _The 1975_ , it's _make you feel pretty_ that covers all the sounds of the big gymnasium.

  
This _Semi Eita_ has a grin.

  
\- You haven't deleted the music from your playlist.

  
Shirabu Kenjirou plants his eyes in his. They're far from each other: from here, Semi Eita can't see what his eyes are shining on. And then, Shirabu Kenjirou says:

  
\- Shut up and enjoy the song, looser.

  
Semi Eita laughs.

  
\- Told you so.

  
And this _Semi Eita_ adds:

  
\- Brat.

  
Shirabu Kenjirou growls a little. If he hadn't been so tired, he would surely have had the strength to give him a look that was dark enough to kill him.

  
Shirabu Kenjirou is satisfied only to watch the gray wicks of this _Semi Eita_ move under the movements of its body shaken by its few dance steps. Sometimes this _Semi Eita_ closes his gray eyes so he can feel the words of the music a little better - maybe. His lips open and close, because he lets out a few words. They're just whispers - they're just caresses of his voice.

  
Shirabu Kenjirou cannot feel them on his body.

  
Who (fucking) cares anyway?

.

Because Taichi is sick, because Taichi is not there, because all the bus seats are taken, and because the only left is the one next to this _Semi Eita_ , Shirabu Kenjirou is forced to sit there.

Semi Eita doesn't say anything - he has his head on the window and his gray eyes on the book _The Ballad of the Impossible_ by Haruki Murakami. It’s only the whole team that is holding back its pain - as if Shirabu Kenjirou was on the verge of cutting one of the red wires from a bomb.

  
The bomb does not explode. Semi Eita doesn't say anything. Semi Eita shifts his legs a bit so that Shirabu Kenjirou can settle in - he doesn't look up. Tendou watches the scene with amusement that makes him giggle. Shirabu Kenjirou can hear him bet with Reon which of the two will launch the insult first - but Yamagata tells him to close it only with his gaze, so Tendou pout, and hides his face in Ushijima's shoulder. He does not say anything. Nobody says anything but many think.

  
The bus starts. Most players fall asleep because they won the match by physical effort that they had long forgotten to do.

  
Shirabu Kenjirou takes his phone and headphones out of his bag. He places one in his ear, and maybe a little too hesitant that he really wanted to be, he hands the other to Semi Eita. He takes his gray eyes off the ink-blackened pages. He takes the right earpiece with his thin fingers. His fingers are very white, very fine and his nails are cut very short. Around some of his fingers, there are scratches covered with bandages.

  
\- Thank you.

  
That's all.

  
The music _doubt_ of _Hippo Cambus_ rocks Shirabu Kenjirou's thoughts enough so that he can close his eyes and rest his mind in a place where reflections do not exist. He falls asleep a little, mumbles those things that sleepers whisper, and his head slides over Semi Eita's shoulder.

  
He looks at him. His brown bangs cover his eyes. His eyelashes touch his cheek and his chest lifts with the rhythm of his breathing - calm and steady. Semi Eita is looking at Shirabu Kenjirou. He sleeps on his shoulder.

Semi Eita returns to the words painted on the pages of his book.

  
And that's all.

.

The coach raises their sanction because it has already been two months since no insult crossed their mouths. He doesn’t say it’s good because this new attitude is too strange to be. The team also thinks there is tension between the two setters: but it is too soft to be called _tension_. Tendou makes a few jokes, sometimes: especially when Semi Eita's gaze extends to the figure of Shirabu Kenjirou. Tendou whispers a few things in his ears, a grin that pulls his lips: some _be more discreet, SemiSemi_ which does not deceive anyone.

 _SemiSemi_ does not respond, because he is used to Tendou's jokes which are not really one.

  
.

They are the last to leave the locker room. If one of the team notices them, they will surely reply that their body was too tired to be able to hurry.

  
Because there are only two of them, Shirabu puts _make you feel pretty_ \- for no good reason, but he suspects that Semi loves music as much as he loves volleyball. And in the worst cases and if his actions are deemed suspicious, he will say that there is no particular reason to be able to listen to music.

  
Semi smiles but Shirabu can't see him - they are from behind, and Semi is about to close his box. When he turns around, he sees Shirabu tie the knot of his purple tie.  
His white shirt highlights the little brown spots on his cheeks. He rolled up his sleeves at his elbows. His copper hair is combed and smooth: he took the time and took care to dry his ends well, so that no drop of water came into the fabric of his shirt. His caramel eyes are framed by his eyelashes which turn black because of darkness of the room.

  
Shirabu is pretty and Semi is someone too honest to try to deny it.

  
 _Shirabu Kenjirou_ is pretty.

.

Semi and Shirabu do not leave the gym after training is finished. They decide to stay - without telling themselves. If Tendou wants to spoof him with that - he will - Semi will answer that it is only a coincidence of fate. And fate was not the looks they kept throwing at each other - their eyes shone with something too tender for it to be hate.

  
Shirabu's playlist fills the silence. Sometimes Semi comments on the music with his hoarse and soft voice. He says that some music is too sad for Shirabu to listen to - he laughs and says that you have to own a heart for it. Shirabu shrugs, and it may be because of Semi's smile that he doesn't respond.

  
Semi ends up putting his playlist. Shirabu practicing passing with his water bottle: he wants his fingers to be exact with his passes. He does not manage. He cannot aim at the gourd perfectly: it remains motionless as if it were fixed to the ground. Semi advises him to imagine the attackers in place of the gourd. He stares at his body - he tells him to relax.

  
\- Relax.

  
It may be because of his soft voice that Shirabu's shoulders are calming down.

  
Semi puts his playlist and goes back to training to do his services. Sometimes Shirabu says his tastes are shit. And the other times, he says he likes the music.

  
\- Okay, this one really sucks.

  
\- Wait for the chorus, said Semi. You will see. The chorus makes all the music.

  
\- This is not a refrain that will improve your awful musical tastes.

  
\- Shut up, brat. We have the same taste.

  
The chorus was not that bad.

.

They often train together and it is rather beneficial because the services of Semi become a little exceptional and the passes of Shirabu became more precise.

  
However, maybe fate laughs at them because Semi Eita hurts himself on the song _make you feel pretty._

  
While doing his serve, he falls back badly. He twists his ankle. There is a slight crack that the music covers. Semi swears between his teeth and Shirabu runs towards Semi's trembling form on the ground.

  
Shirabu runs to Semi to better tell him:

  
\- You are an idiot.

  
Semi gnashed teeth.

  
\- Shut up.

  
Shirabu stoops to his height, and abruptly removes Semi's hands which cover his ankle. He murmurs a _show it to me_ that gets lost with _you are an idiot._ His ankle is palpated by his sweaty hands and his fingers reddened by the passes. Semi stretches by pressing his weight on his elbows. He no longer winces.

  
\- It isn’t swollen but it doesn't change the fact that you're an idiot.

  
Semi does not laugh - he smiles a little, and sighs at the same time. His face is damp because of his sweat which sticks his gray hair against his forehead and his cheeks and his neck.

  
\- We’d have to go to the infirmary to make sure you got nothing.

  
Shirabu brings his hands up to his hips, and is about to stand up when one of Semi's hands stops him. He takes Shirabu's wrist. Against his skin, his hand is on fire.

  
\- No. Out of the question. I -

  
\- Stop fooling around.

  
\- No.

They look at each other. There is a spark of concern in his gray eyes. Shirabu had never seen them so expressive.

  
\- The coach will learn about it and he won't let me play.

Oh.

Shirabu understands.

Semi hadn't walked on the polished parquet for the past few months. In recent weeks, perhaps because the coach is starting to believe in him as a server, Semi had tasted the victory of existing as a player - again.

Shirabu didn't always understand Semi. He did not understand his love for words and his disgust for science. He did not understand why he had abandoned his piano lessons to take guitar lessons. He didn't understand why he was so nice to everyone, expecting nothing in return. He did not understand his adoration for the band _Picture This_. He did not understand why he sometimes helped him to grasp the delicacy of the poems of Baudelaire and Apollinaire when he considered him too cold to appreciate a sensitivity that made him roll his eyes. He did not understand his patience. He did not understand his looks.

Sometimes he didn't understand this _Semi Eita._

 _Sometimes_.

Shirabu tells _this idiot_ to go back to the locker room and take a shower. He tells to _this idiot_ that he will be back. _This idiot_ believes him.

.

Shirabu is back with a cream in his hands. He tells Semi to sit on the locker room bench. Semi obeyed, with a grin and a whisper that says _authoritarian, Shirabu?_

Shirabu says he would like to answer to his question, but he doesn't like talking to fools.

Touché.

Shirabu kneels. He silently applies the cream to Semi's ankle. The cream is soft and cold against his skin. Sometimes his fingertips linger to caress his skin. They are hard against the delicacy of his skin: they are reddened and chopped by the years of passes that damage them.

Semi could have made a joke to break the silence - but he's too busy looking at the figure of Shirabu at his feet. He looks tiny. He does not say anything. He lowers his head - like he's too afraid to meet gray eyes.

Semi likes to feel his hands on his body - even if his fingers are not delicate. With a part of his body against his, Semi can feel a soft heat spreading in his lower abdomen.

He murmurs his name. Shirabu stops. He murmurs his name – again. His fingers stop. He murmurs his name – again and again. Shirabu does not raise his head.

Semi whispers his name again before leaning over to kiss him.

He puts his fingers on Shirabu's chin to lift his face. His lips rest on his. Clumsy. Wet. Semi closed his eyes and Shirabu opened his and he could see Semi's black eyelashes touching his cheeks. He doesn't know how to do it. Clumsy. He never really did that - unlike Semi. He seems to know how to do it: he runs his tongue over one of his lips, and slides his fingers to his cheek to caress it.

Shirabu closes his eyes. He tilts his head to the left - or to the right, or both, or he doesn't know which side because Semi puts a little more pressure on his mouth and he is almost sure that his heart is beating so fast and hard that he will die.

The kiss is clumsy and wet and slow and soft. It is good and bad at the same time. Their foreheads touch and Shirabu's brown hair tickles his eyes.

Semi Eita smiles - and if Shirabu was not the kind of boy to smile for nothing, maybe he would have smiled too.

Shirabu Kenjirou's heart smiles.

.

The days pass and the kisses pass by.

Shirabu got used to the pressure of Semi's lips against his. Shirabu got used to having Semi's arms around his waist to bring him closer to his body. Shirabu learned to move his hands up to Semi's face to frame his face.

Whenever they are alone in the locker rooms and in the recesses of the school and in the gymnasium and in the corridors and in the rooms, there are lots of stolen kisses.  
Shirabu learned to caress Semi's tongue with his own. Even though he whispered _disgusting oh yuck yuck_ , he did it again - over and over. Under his pout, under his complaints, under this barely concealed bad faith; Semi smiles.

.

It is 11:56 pm when Shirabu knocks on Semi's dorm door.

His eyes are shining and he is not breathing very well: he has a notebook and thousands of sheets in his arms. There are bluish circles under his dark eyes and his voice trembles when he says:

\- I have an exam tomorrow on a poem's Victor Hugo and I don't understand anything about it.

Semi takes his things from his hands and places them on his own desk. Shirabu closes the dorm door and is on the verge of cracking when his voice, which has grown too fast, translates into growing panic - only to explode.

\- It's a love poem and he talks about a lot of things at the same time and I don't understand why he starts talking about stars and flowers at the same time when they are two different things and I can't not to understand if the woman ends up leaving him and if I cannot understand all that then I will have a terrible note and you know that I did not obtain an athletic scholarship like all of you so -

Semi takes his face in his hands. They seem immense against the thin and anxious face of Shirabu.

\- Calm down.

He puts his forehead against his and he caresses with his thumb the few tears that managed to escape from his caramel eyes. He murmurs _breaths everything is fine breathe listen to me_ so that Shirabu can breathe again. He’s whispering _it’s going to be okay you’ll succeed I’m here I’m going to help you_ so that his throat can manage to let air pass again.

With his left hand, Semi pushes a few copper wicks. He kisses his forehead.

After a few minutes, after Shirabu has learned to breathe again against Semi's chest, he asks:

\- Tendou is not here?

His voice is frail - almost shy. He can feel Semi shaking his head. He wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his chin over Shirabu's face.

\- No. He will surely spend the night in Wakatoshi's dormitory.

\- Okay.

Semi doesn’t ask if he's feeling better - because he knows Shirabu doesn’t want him to ask. Shirabu drives away all the emotions that his heart can express - emotions, he calls _weaknesses_. So Semi doesn't talk about his emotions. Because Shirabu surely doesn't want him to remind him of his reddened, wet cheeks. So, instead, he takes his hand to direct it to his desk.

It’s the poem _Je respire où tu palpites_ by Victor Hugo and Semi has never read anything so beautiful.

Semi Eita explains the delicacy and fragility of the poem to Shirabu Kenjirou.

And Shirabu Kenjirou has stars in his eyes.

(For the poem or for this _Semi Eita_ or maybe for both - at the same time.)

.

Semi's hands slip under Shirabu's t-shirt - they are warm against his icy skin. He intertwined their legs together. Tendou left the dormitory for that of Wakatoshi. They are alone. Semi let his playlist scroll. He embraces all the particles of his pale face under the _love it if we made it_ song of _The 1975_. From so close, he can feel the breath of Shirabu against his ear.

Semi caresses his body. Semi slides all his kisses towards his neck. Semi kisses him. Gently and strongly at the same time. Semi nibbles his lobes and neck and all of his skin. And he runs his fingers through his copper hair. When he feels one of Shirabu's hand reach his belt, he tightens his grip.

Shirabu says it's a good sound. Semi replies that he is very pretty. Shirabu smiles - and Semi kisses his eyelids.

Shirabu asks him to stand up. He says he can't move too much because of the weight of Semi on top of him. Semi replies that this is the goal. Shirabu smiles louder.

.

\- I want an ice cream.

Shirabu raises one of his eyebrows.

\- It's January 27.

\- I'm a winter kid. I do not fear the cold.

\- You are a child of imbecility.

\- Come with me. I know a good place. Their chocolate ice creams are excellent - but don't it tell Satori or he'll want to come with us.

\- Is this a date?

Semi smiles.

\- I hope so.

\- Are you paying for it? 

\- You, brat.

.

On the bus, Shirabu always puts himself next to Taichi because he and Semi did not want to draw suspicion on a certain too obvious proximity. Semi thinks Tendou already suspects something. And Shirabu answered yes, surely, since nothing escaped Tendou Satori's gaze.

The team made a few jokes about their past bitterness. They always laugh a little when they see Shirabu and Semi exchanging words without hitting each other - without hurting themselves with their words. Semi can't quite figure out how he hated Shirabu Kenjirou but everyone else remembers it - except maybe Shirabu, because he has also forget how hating him.

On the bus, Semi is on the Yamagata side and Shirabu can't help but look at him. Shirabu looks at the way his gray and at the same time blond hair does not stop messing around. He looks at the black tips which harmonize with the color of his eyebrows. He looks at his pointed ears - he thinks of all the times he slipped in a few words, a few moans, a few words and a few laughs. He looks at his crossed arms on his chest. He almost knows him by heart - by caressing him, resting there and kissing him. He knows his hands - they slide all the way down his own body and onto his own skin. He looks at his bandaged fingers. He also knows them. He adored them.

Shirabu knows that on Semi's right index finger, there are two little moles. Shirabu knows that behind his back there are always marks of past acne. Shirabu knows that on Semi's left knee is a childhood scar - the story of a first fall on a bicycle.

Shirabu knows Semi’s body because he spent all of his time kissing it.

 _Shit_ , he thinks. He would like Semi to kiss him. He would like to touch his closed eyelids. He would like to pass out in his arms - blend into his body.

Shirabu Kenjirou can't help but looking at Semi Eita.

Tendou Satori saw it.

.

Shirabu moaned Semi's first name and then Semi kissed him even harder.

Their naked bodies mix in the white sheets. There is no music. Semi didn't want to put on music because he wanted to hear all the sounds Shirabu could make thanks to his hands and his own body. Shirabu's sighs were new music in his ears. Semi would like Shirabu's moans to become an immortal playlist.

Semi takes his hand. Both bodies are sweaty. Semi whispers phrases that Shirabu cannot hear - but they must be tender, since Semi is a sweet lover. Shirabu intertwines their fingers. Semi says things in the crook of his neck. Shirabu serves his hand harder.

Semi stops - he looks up at Shirabu's trembling eyes, and he doesn't even have time to ask if _are you okay does it hurt too much are you all right I can stop talk to me Kenjirou_ that Shirabu whisper:

\- Keep going on. Please.

Semi gently kisses his wet eyelids.

.

\- Nice pass, Shirabu.

\- Thanks, Semi.

_I couldn't have done better than you._

.

\- Nice serve, Semi.

Semi winks at him.

_There is no one stronger than you._

.  


Tendou puts an arm around Semi's shoulders. They are on the bench as a 3 VS 3 match takes place in front of their eyes. They are far enough from the others, so Tendou allows himself to whisper to him:

\- I'll leave the room for you and Shirabu tonight.

Semi sends him a dark look.

Tendou bursts out laughing.

. 

Semi Eita has his head on his boyfriend's lap when he says:

\- Satori knows.

Shirabu does not react - his fingers continue to stroke Semi's hair. Sometimes he takes a few strands and wraps them around his fingers. It doesn't stop. He never takes his eyes off his chemistry class lying on the bed, next to them.

Semi let _cry for me_ by _Hunny_ play in the room.

He closed his gray eyes.

\- It is no surprise.

_I don't care, Semi. Don't you?_

_I couldn’t care less._

  
.

Goshiki is the stickiest first year ever. So that's why when he asks Shirabu to pass him after the end of training, he can't say no - he knows he has lost in advance.

Shirabu is an intelligent boy: so he tries to save himself time - to save time between the words of Semi and his hands against his body.

But Goshiki can't strike any of his passes and Shirabu would have hit him against a wall if it weren't forbidden in the school rules.

\- What's wrong?

Shirabu cracks. His voice is more brittle than he would have liked. Goshiki doesn't pay attention and his black bangs cover her eyes, which he imagines to be wet.

\- The last years are going away in three months. It sucks. It makes me sad.

\- I thought you wanted to be the team’s ace.

\- Yeah.

Goshiki sighs.

\- But I would never really do it alone.

And in three months, many are leaving.

\- They won't come back, you know, Shirabu-senpai. I lack in advance something that I have but which, I know, will disappear.

Shirabu tells him that he is stupid. He tells him he's stupid, because he knows that the third years love this stupid high school and this stupid team too much to never come back. Shirabu says he's stupid, because they aren’t going to the other side of the world. Shirabu says that Goshiki is stupid to be able to reassure himself.

Because this idiot answers all his answers, Shirabu begins to believe Goshiki. Goshiki says that the university is another world: they will be too free to be able to think of us - he says. Goshiki says that the university is a world the opposite of theirs. He says many things that do not please his heart.

Something is breaking.

Goshiki talks about parties, alcohol, girls and parties and alcohol and distance and girls and Tokyo and parties and girls.

Goshiki says that Shirabu and he will stay here. And the third years will go away. And Semi Eita will go.

And Semi Eita won't come back.

.

  
This evening, Shirabu Kenjirou does not join Semi in his dormitory.

He doesn't reply to his messages either.

.

Taichi asks him why he hasn't kicked his dorm for the whole weekend but Shirabu replies that he is sick. It's funny, because he has love disease and it sucks.

Taichi doesn't believe it - he just stares at it a bit strangely. He says Semi has been looking for him everywhere.

.

Semi knows that Shirabu is breaking up with him but he is too much in love to see it.

He breaks up with him without telling him - and that doesn't surprise him. Between the two of them, everything had been about words they didn't say to each other.

Semi Eita is eighteen when he believes that it is possible to die because of Love.

.

The ignorance that Shirabu has in him breaks his heart into thousands of crystalline pieces.

Shirabu ignores him so much that Semi begins to doubt of his own existence. It is when he cries - a little and a lot and madly - that he realizes that he is still alive.

He's living in a nightmare.

.

\- SemiSemi ... You have red eyes. Did you take drugs?

\- Shut up.

It can look like nothing, but Satori is a little worried.

Tendou Satori saw it.

.

Semi Eita can't help but stare at Shirabu Kenjirou and think how much he hates to love him.

But he doesn't hate him - and that may be the worst part. He loves him too much to forget the way his hands caressed him: the way he kissed him.

Semi Eita is forced to think of him with the _past_ and he wants to die.

.

Everyone starts to whisper about their second button and if it doesn't stop, Semi risks killing them all before he shoots himself. Satori says he is tense: he constantly reminds him to breathe. But he cannot. He forgot how to do it.

The ceremony takes place in two weeks and he does not know if he is in a hurry to leave this hell or if it is the idea of leaving Shirabu Kenjirou which seems to him to be Hell.

.

Shirabu Kenjirou is present at the ceremony and Semi Eita does not know how to interpret the brilliance in his caramel look. What he does know, however, is that he cannot take his eyes off his. Neither does Shirabu Kenjirou - but Semi Eita is too much in love to really understand it. Semi Eita sees only his own love.

Tendou Satori is crying. He cries a lot and he yells a lot. He screams how much he loves this school and how much he loves this team and how much he loves this life and how much he is in love with Ushijima Wakatoshi. Ushijima Wakatoshi blushes - he has stars in his eyes.

Goshiki Tsutomu is crying a lot. He cries until his eyes hurt him - Satori took him in his arms, and he said _we're counting on you, our little ace_ and Tsutomu is crying even harder. Yamagata is not crying, but his voice trembles when he says _I am happy to be your friend_ _guys_ and his words signify the end of Taichi Kawanishi who runs his arm over his wet eyes in a furious movement.

Semi Eita is not crying because he has been crying too much in recent months and it is as if he has run out of water to shed his tears. Shirabu Kenjirou allegedly replied that it is impossibly stupid, since his silly body is made up of 70% water.

  
_Shirabu Kenjirou._

Tendou Satori has just given his second button to Ushijima Wakatoshi. Ushijima Wakatoshhi has just given his second button to Tendou Satori.

And if he had to give this special person his own button, then Semi Eita would take care of giving it back to him in a thousand pieces. Because everyone says it's the button closest to our heart, and because his had become only thousands of crystal tips.

So Semi Eita will stretch all of these fractures to Shirabu Kenjirou's white palm, and tell him how much he hated loving him - how much he hates loving him.

It was a lie.

But that’s what he’s doing.

Semi Eita took Shirabu Kenjirou's hand to take him to a quiet place to shout in his face how much he hates loving him.

Shirabu Kenjirou is always so pretty. He still wears his uniform and his purple tie is still as tight around his neck. He may be choking. Semi Eita would give his own life to save him.

\- Congratulations.

His voice is strange, but it may be because Semi Eita forgot how it sounded like. Shirabu Kenjirou does not look at him - his head is lowered and his copper wicks fall before his eyes. Shirabu Kenjirou is not provocative, insulting or disrespectful and that is not how he is. He looks so small that Semi Eita doesn't have the strength _the hatred_ to be able to yell at him.

Semi Eita forgot what was the color of his eyes - _caramel or chocolate? Or maybe both?_

\- Eita, I...

Semi Eita forgot how to breathe.

\- I'm in love with you.

Kenjirou looks up. _Both_.

\- I'm telling you this now because it doesn't matter anymore.

Shirabu Kenjirou broke his heart into a thousand crystalline pieces. All these pieces scattered all over his body, and they didn't let him breathe - and neither laugh, nor smile. They got stuck in his throat and stabbed his lungs - his faith, his kidneys, his muscles, his brain: his mind. Especially his mind. Shirabu Kenjirou broke his heart so that he could better repair it later.

So Semi Eita laughs. He laughs very hard. Shirabu looks at him with stars in his eyes - Semi Eita has trouble seeing them, because his own blind him enough to fail to distinguish love from the other. So Semi Eita laughs very hard. Shirabu Kenjirou will have to kiss him a lot, a lot, to be able to pick up the pieces. Shirabu Kenjirou will have to embrace all the particles of his body. Shirabu Kenjirou will have to whisper all the tender and delicate words he is afraid to say.

And Shirabu Kenjirou will do it.

\- You, brat.

**Author's Note:**

> hi!
> 
> it's the first fiction i have been posted here. i hope you liked it. English isn't my native langage so i'm sorry for the fault. i also posted this story in french and because it's my mother tongue it may sounds better. so you can go look at it if you want to. 
> 
> thank you for reading my work. you can let me know what you think of it, it would be a pleasure for me to know your opinions - good or bad.
> 
> take care!!


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